Kou Family of Cute
by Yamino Majo
Summary: Short ficlets or long drabbles of the Kou's pwning Seiran. Non-AU, set pre-series.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Untitled (tentatively under the working title of "The Kou Family of Cute")  
Pairing: none  
Rating: G  
Summary/Warnings: short ficlets or long drabbles of the Kou's pwning Seiran. Non-AU, set pre-series. Un-betaed, so all mistakes are entirely my own.

Part 1 of 4

--

The pristine whiteness of the snow-covered fields gradually fell away to the grayer slush of the city streets as they made their way through Sa Province. Shouka was glad to see that the new member of their entourage was doing better day by day under his wife's diligent care. While she could no longer close wounds with a touch, there was still something special about the way she worked with the injured.

Shouka was reasonable enough to admit he was a bit biased, but it was true that Seiran was up and about mere days after they found him, when Shouka had seen grown men laid flat on their backs for weeks from the same wounds. The boy had seemed even younger after they cleaned him up, wrapped his wounds, dressed him in new clothes and gave him food; the bewildered air surrounding him in the few days where he was at Shoukun's mercy only added to it.

Shuurei had taken to the new member of their family as well, following Seiran around like a duckling with its mother as soon as Seiran 'escaped' Shoukun's care. It was the most adorable thing Shouka had ever seen, despite the slight disappointment that his daughter hadn't done that much with him on this trip. But she still showed up regularly to haunt his steps for reading lessons and he already had plans to start buying books for her as soon as they arrive at the Capital. So that was enough to tide him over, along with his laughing wife and Seiran's confused looks, until they finally reach their destination.

--

At the checkpoint, Shouka handed over his papers with a smile to the bored looking clerk manning the side-office. It might have been simpler to flash their pass, emblazoned with the mark of the Kou clan, but Shouka had never been in the habit of flaunting his family's power. It was power that belonged to his little brothers now, in any case, and he would be the first to agree that they are much better at wielding it than he ever would be.

The clerk looked at the paper. "It looks like this travel authorization form has been updated in the offices here." He noted. "For...Shi Seiran?"

"Yes, sir," Shouka confirmed, but before he could extrapolate, Shuurei had already started.

"Seiran's going to come with us!" She said with a big smile, peeking over the edge of the clerk's desk. "And he'll play with me and he's good at climbing trees and beating up bullies!"

The clerk blinked. "Ah...I see." His gaze turned to Seiran, who didn't look like he was just the subject of a little girl's adoring outburst - unless you looked very carefully. "And what do you say to that?"

There was a moment of silence before Shuurei piped up again. "Seiran doesn't talk much, but he'll shake his head if he doesn't want something." Her face suddenly turned worried and she detached herself from the clerk's desk to tug at Seiran's sleeve. "You _are_ coming with us, right??"

Shouka hoped the man didn't mind that his daughter seemed to have taken over the whole interview, but it seemed like the clerk was waiting expectantly for the answer as well.

In the meantime, Shuurei had taken Seiran's silence as reluctance - instead of overwhelmed-by-cute - and was now earnestly trying to convince him while holding onto his sleeves with both hands. "Come with us! Tou-sama said there'll be a big garden and books. We'll have lots of fun! Please come...!"

Before it could get down to tears, Seiran knelt down and loosened Shuurei's grip on his clothes. At her beseeching look, his expression shifted into what passed as a smile, and he nodded.

Shouka felt Shoukun's hand slip into his, and met her dark amber eyes with a smile. The joyous cheer from Shuurei didn't quite cover the sound of the clerk's seal of approval on the travel pass.

They were going home.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Untitled (tentatively under the working title of "The Kou Family of Cute")  
Pairing: none  
Rating: G  
Summary/Warnings: short ficlets or long drabbles of the Kou's pwning Seiran. Non-AU, set pre-series. Un-betaed, so all mistakes are entirely my own.

Part 2 of 4

--

It really wasn't his fault.

An assassin had to have his tools - blades of various size and shapes, garrote wires, vials of poisons, lock picks, and a whole plethora of other things. He had gotten into the habit of carrying smoke pellets as well, because even though any sort of fighter with skill to speak of can fight with vision impairment, assassins depended the least on sight.

He had no idea why they conspired to foil him in non-mission settings though. Absolutely no idea.

Unfortunately, that meant the extra pellet he kept in his loose sleeve for emergencies chose to fall out_ just then_...and he had three seconds to take cover from his soon-to-be-exploding pot of boiling water, because whatever was in those pellets did not react kindly with hot liquids.

--

Later, Seiran surveyed the room with an expression that was far from unreadable and definitely not pleased. Shouka thought back fondly on the days when the boy didn't bother _talking_ to them. He missed them...almost.

"Tou-sama," Shuurei, the dear child, was patting him all over with small hands, a concerned expression on her face. "Are you okay?" Shouka smiled to show her that he was fine, and she tried wipe his face with her sleeve.

Shoukun showed up like a shadow behind Seiran, and her expression was just short of outright hilarity.

"Master, how--" Seiran started, then stopped, putting a hand to his forehead. "What were you trying to make?" He asked instead, in a tone that sounded polite but was somehow laced with the hint of ' _this better be good_'.

Shouka looked forlornly at the smoking stove, the water dripping off the counters, and the fine layer of black soot doubtlessly settling in on himself and Shuurei, as well as every uncovered surface. "You and Shoukun were working so hard, I thought I would make some tea." He explained it mournfully.

His dear, beloved wife started laughing, bent nearly in double, and Seiran looked like he swallowed a bug - one with many, many wiggly legs and very 'ew' in Shuurei's words. Shuurei, with the simple straightforwardness of a child, summed it all up.

"Tou-sama made water explode!"

--

"I got it, Master."

He tried to at least help pick up the larger pieces of broken china, but Seiran gently (but firmly, very firmly) took him by the elbow and half coaxed, half steered him out of the kitchen.

"Come, love," Shoukun said with Shuurei in her arms. "Shuurei-chan wants you to tell her a story."

Shouka thought it was really _quite_ evil of his wife to make him choose between telling Shuurei a story and trying to make up for his accident with the smoke bomb and the boiling water. It just didn't seem right to make Seiran do the clean-up...

As if reading his mind, Seiran nudged him again, "It's all right, Master. Go tell ojou-sama a story." Shouka's sharp ears picked up the muttered, "the kitchen doesn't need to be destroyed any more," that Seiran added. It was with a long, sad face (which Shuurei tried to make cheerful by pulling on his cheeks) that Shouka went off to put his daughter to bed.

--


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Untitled (tentatively under the working title of "The Kou Family of Cute")  
Pairing: none  
Rating: G  
Summary/Warnings: short ficlets or long drabbles of the Kou's pwning Seiran. Non-AU, set pre-series. Un-betaed, so all mistakes are entirely my own.

Part 3 of 4

--

One night, after Shuurei had been put to bed and he was on his way to his own room, he was stopped by the light filtering out from the door of the dining room. Curious, he peeked in.

"Ah, Seiran," the Madam looked up with a smile from where she sat at the table. "Come in."

"Madam, it's time for bed." he said resignedly, but did as she asked anyway and sat down.

"You're too serious," She laughed, and this time when she reached out to pinch his cheek, he managed to lean just enough to avoid the worst of it. Her fathomless eyes gleamed. "Shouka sent a messenger from the palace; he will be staying in the archives tonight."

"Does he have a lot of work?" Seiran asked, concerned.

Shoukun laughed, "He probably got distracted by a book again," she retorted in good humor. "But in any case, since Shouka's gone, I've decided you can be my drinking partner tonight."

Now that she mentioned it, Seiran noticed cups on the table and a bottle at her elbow. There had been a lot of alcohol in the cupboards when he was helping with the chores, but he had always thought they belonged to the Master or was for cooking or the servants. Looking at her (entirely misdirected, he thought) expectant smile, he tried to figure out a way to bow out gracefully. "Um, Madam...I'm bad at drinking."

"Liar!" She chuckled, "If that's the excuse you'll be using, then I must insist that you drink with me." Two cups were filled and Seiran looked at the one placed in front of him as if it were poison. "We'll build your tolerance up yet."

--

He decided it must be some sort of test. If he matched her drink for drink, even though his head was spinning and his heart was about to pound out of his ribcage and he _knew_ there would be no way he could stand, much less walk straight after this, it meant he passed. Or something.

It wasn't as if he wouldn't jump off a cliff if they asked, so what's a little binge drinking?

What he didn't expect was to wake up in his own bed, tucked in under the blankets and a cup of water on the low table. His head was pounding and his stomach was staging a revolt. But strangely enough, he felt glad; the cliff he chose to jump wasn't that tall of a cliff after all, if landing was going to be like this.

--

After that, drinking with the Madam was a semi-regular occurrence, because her only other drinking partner (who wouldn't have passed out in the first five minutes, anyway) was the Master. Occasionally the Master's overnight stays at the archives happened to line up with the days she wanted to drink, and Seiran would sit in for him.

Once the Master actually made it back in time and cheerfully joined them. Seiran thought to extract himself gracefully (never mind that he felt a tiny bit disappointed in his not entirely sober brain) but the rebuttal was so absolute that he soon found himself trying to match _both_ the Madam and the Master. Just one of them was hopeless, needless to say he failed utterly to match both.

"You've gotten very good at this, Seiran," the Master said mildly, and Seiran was fairly sure that the amount of empty bottles on his side of the table contained enough alcohol to kill a grown man. "But Shoukun, you should go easy on him."

"Nonsense," the Madam scoffed, and the empty bottles on _her_ side were overflowing off the table and starting to litter the floor. There was something mysterious and grave in her eyes, but when he checked again she was smiling. "This is a useful thing to learn."

"Somehow..." the Master said in a resigned tone, rubbing his head.

"...that's not convincing, Madam," Seiran finished. The table looked so inviting, maybe it he just put his head down for a little...Ah, there. He didn't remember what happened after that.

--

"You should stay in bed quietly and not roll around!"

Seiran covered his eyes. Small feet were pattering around his room, setting down a pan of water, wringing out a cloth, and then those small hands were tugging at his. "Ojou-sama, I'm not sick." He tried to protest.

She was not to be reasoned with, and with the determination passed down to her from the Madam, removed his hand and settled the cool cloth on his forehead -it was crooked, he had to reach up and adjust it if he wanted to see. His head hurt if he moved too much, but he sat up anyway.

"Ojou-sama, you're the one that shouldn't be out of bed." He paused for the moment that it took to get over the wave of nausea. "You had a fever yesterday, didn't you?"

"Kaa-sama made me medicine!" Shuurei responded cheerfully as she made Seiran lay down again. "So I am all better. But she says that Seiran's sick now, so I have to take care of you!"

"I'm not sick," he reiterated.

She hoisted herself on the bed and stared at him. He took the chance to make sure she was really not sick - her eyes weren't glazed and her complexion was healthy. Madam was obviously already up, since Shuurei's hair was already brushed and up in its usual style.

"Your eyes are glazed and you look green," his ojou-sama pronounced. "And Kaa-sama said you were sick, so you must be."

His door opened to admit the Madam in question. She was carrying a tray, and the mere thought of food made Seiran clamp hands over his mouth. "See? You are sick." She laughed softly, and he was grateful to see the tray merely held a cup of water. "Shuurei-chan, c'mere. Your Tou-sama is making some soup, do you want to go help?"

Seiran gave the Madam a horrified look, but Shuurei chirped, "Yes!" and ran off.

"The Master...in the kitchen again...!"

Shoukun sat down and flicked his forehead. "The cook's in there and all they'll do is shell peas." She chuckled at his relieved look, "Not to mention I already broke the stove when I was making medicine yesterday..."

"..._Madam_..." He groaned. "We just repaired the stove two weeks ago. And you know if the Master is in the kitchen, the place will end up as a disaster area...Ojou-sama shouldn't be anywhere _near_ the stove if the Master is there, because something will explode, I know it."

"You have so little faith," she murmured.

He sat up, worst-case scenarios already running through his still hung-over brain. "I have to stop them."

She reached out and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. The touch was light, but it felt like he was suddenly weighed down by a ton of rocks. "You have so little faith," she repeated with a smile, "In yourself, and in us."

He looked at her helplessly, not understanding why she didn't understand. "I want to help." He tried to explain.

"I know," she ruffled his hair. "But you're not here because you're useful, because you babysit and do repairs and help us cook and clean. It's not about earning your right to be here."

He drew in a sharp breath, trying to remember what he might've said to her last night. She gave him a fathomless look.

"...but it's not something you should worry about until you feel better," she declared with an air of finality and handed him the cup before he could protest. "Drink some water and sleep more," she ordered gently. "Let us take care of you once in awhile."

--


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Untitled (tentatively under the working title of "The Kou Family of Cute")  
Pairing: none  
Rating: G  
Summary/Warnings: short ficlets or long drabbles of the Kou's pwning Seiran. Non-AU, set pre-series. Un-betaed, so all mistakes are entirely my own.

Part 4 of 4

--

They went off, hand in hand, because the Master and the Madam going shopping together was a disaster waiting to happen, and they still haven't recovered from the last one. The good thing was that he was learning some interesting things about carpentry from the hired help...the bad thing was that their kitchen was at the center of Master's last cooking attempt.

At least he was trying to just boil water at the time, so the stove was only slightly, not completely, destroyed.

"Seiraannnn," his attention turned back to his shopping-partner. She tugged at his hand, swinging them all the attention they should be accorded for a six year old. "How much money did Tou-sama give you? Is there enough for candy?"

"Maybe," he said with a smile, "But first we have to get the groceries for tonight's dinner. We can't eat candy for dinner, right?"

She pouted, but by then they had arrived at the marketplace and she was greeted as befitting a princess, with calls and waves and smiles from most of the vendors. He let go of her hand to let her run as she liked, keeping an eye on her as he made the rounds for groceries.

When he had the various vegetables in-basket and was just starting to haggle for the meat, she returned and attached herself to his side. "Seiraaaan, there's sesame candies today," she mentioned beseechingly, shooting forlorn looks at the sweets stand. The last time they were here, the shop had been out.

He glanced down at the money left after the vegetables, the eggs and the salt, and then at the cut that had been the topic of discussion for the last minute or so. The butcher's wife usually manned the stand since he tended to scare the customers away, and for good reason. Seiran had failed so far in convincing the man that the price he wanted was exorbitant. There definitely wouldn't be any extra funds left over if they went with the quoted price for the meat. "Ojou-sama, you know Master wanted a nice hot-pot for everyone today. Maybe we can get you some sesame candies later."

Shuurei seemed to realize that too, and her small face fell in disappointment. He was proud of her, though, when she didn't make a scene and just said in a small voice, "Okay."

The butcher was glaring at him and packaged the meat. Seiran blinked when half of the money he handed over was handed right back.

"Special sale today," the man growled. "It's getting late and I won't be able to sell it by the end of day anyway."

Considering just a minute ago Seiran confirmed that there were no special sales and it was barely a few hours past noon, he couldn't help but conclude that the man was lying through his teeth.

He hesitated too long and the butcher grabbed his hand and dumped the money in there. Still glaring hard enough to chip rock at fifty paces, he pointed to the candy stand. "Just go buy the girl some candy already!"

"Thank you, sir," He nudged Shuurei. "What do you say, Ojou-sama?"

"Thank you!!" The girl chirped, and Seiran watched the lines in the man's face arrange themselves into what appeared to be a rarely-used smile. Shuurei grabbed his hand and started dragging him to the candy stand.

He made a mental note and added the butcher onto the list of people with confirmed weakness against his Ojou-sama.

End


End file.
